Black Skulls, page 9
I dropped him back to the floor. My mom stared at me with wide eyes. I knew I’d stepped into something that I’d never be able to turn away from. I’d lost my sister, had the woman I cared about brutally beaten and raped for the goddamn umpteenth time, her memory scarred, and now, I was turning my back on my family and the clubs. But until they got their shit together, I had to get the fuck out of here.
And I was taking Amelia with me.
“I’m fucking riding out today,” I announced, ignoring my mother trying to say something. “Until you all get your fucking heads back on straight, I’m gone. I’m taking Amelia with me. I won’t keep her around a place where she’s never going to be allowed to heal.”
Luke did something he’s never done to me before. He hugged me, clapping me on the back. “Take care of her, please, Cole. She needs to get far away from here, and I know you can protect her. Get her out as soon as possible.”
I nodded curtly and turned on my heel to walk out of the chapel, going to find Amelia.
8
We parked our bikes in front of a motel three hours away from the clubhouse. Amelia hadn’t hesitated in leaving with me. It was clear she wanted out of there badly. I didn’t know her real reasons, but if I had to guess, I’d say it was because she didn’t want to be around the place Heather used to walk around and where Heather practically lived at sometimes.
I slid off my bike and grabbed my bag off the back of it, walking to the office of the motel we’d stopped at. Amelia continued to sit on her bike. She hated the process of getting a room; I remembered that much from when we used to ride together.
Man, those were the days, I thought, smiling to myself.
Once I had the key to our room, I walked back outside, only to find Amelia arguing with a couple of guys who were wearing cuts of another club. My face twisted into a scowl. I didn’t like the thought of my girl being threatened.
“You tell your fucking president that I don’t have shit to do with that. For fuck’s sake, this is my first time being outside since near the beginning of the fucking week. I didn’t fucking blow up your goddamn warehouse!” she yelled, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration.
I stepped up behind her, placing my hand on her lower back. “Problem here, men?” I asked quietly, my tone holding a thousand promises of pain if they dared to touch her.
“Yeah, your girl here blew up our fucking warehouse,” one of the men snapped at me.
I looked at their cuts, noticing they read Reapers. I sighed in irritation. “Guys, do you even realize who the fuck you’re talking to and accusing? Jesus Christ, you’re accusing Amelia of the Black Skulls.”
The Reapers and the Black Skulls have had an alliance for years now, and I knew in the past, they had called on Amelia for help in retaliation since she wasn’t afraid to get caught up in bad shit. I guess her face was fucked up enough to the point they didn’t recognize her.
One of the men shined a flashlight on her face, and she cursed, knocking the light out of his hand. “Shit, girl. What happened to you?” the president asked, stepping forward and gripping her chin in his hand to examine her face.
I forced myself not to break his nose—or worse, his jaw. I didn’t want anyone touching my Amelia. He pulled her into the circle of his arms, and that was where I drew the line. I yanked her back to my side, glaring at him.
“Keep your fucking hands to yourself,” I warned him.
“Cole, chill out,” Amelia snapped, glaring up at me. I narrowed my eyes at her. “Kyle has done nothing but look out for me. When I ran off for space, I went to his club. He made sure I was looked after.”
I returned her glare. She wasn’t going to fool me easily. That fucker had the look of a man that had a real nice fucking feel of her before. “Oh, I’m sure he’s had you looked after,” I ground out through my clenched teeth. “I’m sure he’s fucked you, hasn’t he?”
“Actually, I have,” the president told me, a cocky smirk resting on his face.
I didn’t restrain myself that time. I slammed my fist into his face. Guns were drawn on me instantly, but I didn’t give a fuck. Who in the hell did he think he was to rub his fucking relations with Amelia in my fucking face? He deserved a hell of a lot more than a fucking broken nose!
“Cole!” Amelia shouted at me. “For fuck’s sake, what are you doing?!”
I grabbed her by the arm and glared at everyone pointing guns at me. “Put them down. If you shoot me, you’re starting a war with the Black Skulls and the Bloody Royals.”
“Fuck, you’re that Cole?” the Vice President asked.
I rolled my eyes. Could they be any dumber?
“You couldn’t tell by the cut?” I snapped at him. “You fuckers are stupider than I first fucking thought.”
I dragged Amelia away, and we went to our hotel room. Once we entered, I slammed the door closed behind me. Dropping my bag onto the floor, I stormed off toward the bathroom. I was so fucking pissed, and I couldn’t release that anger on Amelia like I normally did with other women. Fuck, she had to recover, I reminded myself.
I just needed a fucking shower.
“Just where in the hell do you think you’re going?!” Amelia hollered at my back.
“To take a fucking shower. Sit down, watch TV, and shut the fuck up,” I ground out through clenched teeth, continuing on my walk to the bathroom.
She grabbed my arm and yanked me around to face her, glaring at me fiercely. Fuck, she was so goddamn hot when she was worked up. All I wanted to do was bury myself deep inside of her and listen to her moan my name over and over.
“You know I don’t take damn orders, Cole. What in the fuck is wrong with you? You almost killed your dad today, and then you walked from the clubs, from your family. When Kyle said he had slept with me, you fucking punched him in the face. Now, you’re pissed off and ordering me around? What the fuck is going on with you?!” she finally began yelling at the end.
I couldn’t fucking tell her what was wrong. I couldn’t tell her I left the club for her. I couldn’t tell her my views had changed on life because of her. I couldn’t fucking tell her I was jealous of other fucking men that got to touch her!
I grabbed her face gently in my hands and kissed her. When I pulled away, she was a little breathless. I took a deep, calming breath and released her. “Please, Amelia, just leave me alone for a little while. I don’t want to talk about it. Don’t ask again. Do whatever you want. Just don’t leave the hotel room.”
She put her hands on her hips, ready to argue with me again, but I already had my reasons. “Amelia, that bastard and his crew are out there somewhere, and I have no doubt in my mind that they’re waiting for the perfect moment to catch you alone without me anywhere around. Stay in the motel room. If someone comes in, scream as loud as you can and try to get into the bathroom, alright?”
I gave her another kiss, though this one was much smaller and shorter. I walked into the bathroom to get a shower.
Fuck, I needed to calm down. Two kisses, and I was hard. What kind of man was Amelia turning me into?
Amelia
* * *
I felt his hand constricting around my neck. I wanted to breathe. Fuck, I was trying my goddamn hardest to breathe, but his grip was too strong, and it was unrelenting. My brain was shutting down from the lack of oxygen. Black spots began to dance in front of my vision.
This was it. He was going to fucking kill me.
* * *
“Amelia, baby, wake up.” Someone shook me. “Come on, wake up.”
I gasped, my eyes flying open. My eyes met Cole’s immediately. He was holding me on his lap, his hand on my neck. It wasn’t tight, and I’m sure it was supposed to be comforting, but I still panicked.
I slapped his hand away and jumped off his lap, running a hand through my hair. I walked into the bathroom and splashed water on my face. Fuck, I hoped these nightmares stopped fast. I couldn’t get this shit out of my head. It wasn’t even flashbacks that I was experiencing. It was fucking shit that my mind was conjuring up on its own.
“Are you okay?” I heard Cole’s deep, timber voice ask me.
I looked over to where I heard his voice come from and found him leaning against the door frame of the bathroom. “Fuck, Cole, I can’t fucking do this,” I muttered, shaking my head. I was lost, confused, and so fucking tired.
And broken. I felt . . . broken.
He raised a brow at me. “Do what? Do you want to go back? I’m not going to fucking let you. Those bastards—”
I cut him short, my temper finally letting loose. I was pissed. I couldn’t deal with the card that had been dealt to me. I didn’t deserve any of the shit that I was being forced to deal with.
“No!” I yelled. “That’s not what I fucking mean!” I paused and pressed my fingers against my temples. “For fuck’s sake, Cole, all I’ve ever done is try to do what was best for the fucking clubs. The only fucking payment I get is for everyone, including my own fucking parents, to allow me to receive the worst end of the stick, the fucking stick that’s meant to hurt the whole damn club.”
He stepped toward me, his mouth open to speak, but I cut him off by holding my hand up. “Don’t. I’m not done. This shit that I’ve been dealing with—it’s building up way too fucking much. I push it off, not wanting to deal with it, because the club relies on me to be strong, but Cole, I can’t be strong anymore.” My voice broke. “Fuck, it hurts so damn much. All of the horror I’ve been through is catching up to me. I’ve never had nightmares before; I’ve always been able to block out everything that I didn’t want to deal with, but now—now it’s catching up to me, and I’m getting all of these fucking nightmares that are terrifying the shit out of me—"
Cole looked pained at my speech. “Amelia, I never expected you to be strong.” He shook his head. “Jesus, the only thing that I‘ve ever wanted from you was for you to let go of everything and to vent and to deal with the shit that you’ve been through, but you always pull back from me. You had to get away from there, so I did what was necessary to get you away from there because if you’re there, you’re going to continue to drink it all away and not deal with it. I know you.”
I clenched my fists and slammed them on the bathroom counter. “I don’t want to have to deal with it, Cole!” Fuck, my mind was all over the place. I was confused. I didn’t know what I wanted or needed. I just knew that I didn’t want this bullshit card that I had been dealt.
I was tired. I was angry. I was sad. I was feeling too damn much, and it was twisting me up inside.
“It doesn’t matter if you want to deal with it or not, Amelia. It has to be dealt with, or it’s just going to continue to get worse and worse, which will just generate more problems.”
Problems?! I have fucking problems?!
“What the fuck are you trying to say?!” I yelled at him. “I don’t have fucking problems, Cole!”
“The hell you don’t,” he retorted, the muscle in his jaw ticking. I could see the visible struggle on his face not to yell back at me. “You have problems like no other person I know. You have so much shit to deal with. You’ve been raped and beaten too many damn times, and it’s not fucking fair to you. You’re traumatized, Amelia, and you’re not willing to face it.” He took another step closer to me. “Dammit, though, I will fucking make you deal with this shit if it’s the last goddamn thing that I do, Amelia. You’ve got to deal. I can’t stand seeing you like this.”
Tears filled my eyes, and I immediately started crying. Fuck, I couldn’t do this. I wasn’t cut out for this kind of shit. I could handle getting messages across to other clubs through damage like nobody’s business, but when it came to shit happening to me, I couldn’t fucking cope with it.
Cole pulled me into the circle of his arms and ran his hand over my hair. “Amelia, you will get through this, and I’ll help you,” he promised.
I yanked away from him. “I don’t want you to help me!” I yelled at him. “You don’t even care about me, so just fuck off!”
Be angry, Amelia. You can do angry.
I could visibly see when Cole lost his temper. The muscle in his jaw began ticking even faster, and he clenched his fists, his body going tense. “Dammit, Amelia, I do fucking care! If I didn’t, I would have fucking left you with the clubs to deal with everyone by yourself and rode off into the fucking sunset. So, don’t you try pulling that bullshit card on me!” he roared.
I slid down the wall behind me, dropping to my ass on the floor. Cole knelt in front of me and grabbed my chin in his hands, forcing my eyes to meet his. “Amelia, you will be okay. I know you better than I know anyone, possibly even my own self, so I know this is all going to turn out alright.”
I sighed, giving up. I was at rock bottom, and I was going to have to work my way back up to the strong person that everyone knew—hell, the strong person that I knew, the one that knew what she wanted and got it.
And as much as I didn’t want to admit it, right then, I needed Cole.
Cole
I stared out over the weathered parking lot, drinking the coffee I had picked up from the gas station across the street. Amelia was still sleeping. She hadn’t slept well until I finally forced her to get over her fear of sleeping in the same bed with a guy and forced her to sleep in the same bed with me. I guess holding her all night helped to keep away most of her nightmares.
I didn’t turn around when I heard the door to our room open. I knew it was Amelia. The second she came around me, my body became hyper-aware of her.
She sat beside me on the sidewalk and took the coffee cup from my hand, taking a sip. I took one look at her and groaned, running my hand down my face. She sure as hell wasn’t going to make it easy for me to not fuck her into oblivion. She was wearing jean shorts that barely covered her ass, leaving her long legs bare. She was wearing a tank top that left her breasts on view for me to see. Even though she was covered in bruises, Amelia could still make my dick hard just at the sight of her.
I jumped up, running my hand through my hair. “For fuck’s sake, Amelia, do you mind putting some damn clothes on?”
She looked up at me through her lashes. I groaned, banging my head on the metal pole holding the awning up to our room, trying to knock some goddamn sense into my head. Where Amelia was concerned, I never seemed to have any.
“I am wearing clothes, Cole,” she retorted, smirking her little devilish smirk that I loved seeing on her.
I looked down at her. “Unless you want me to fuck you against the wall and on every surface in that motel room, I’d advise you to at least put on a fucking t-shirt or a tank top that covers more of your chest.”
She smirked at me before going back into the motel room. That’s when I realized she still had my damn coffee. “Hey!” I called after her, going into the room. “You took—” My words were cut off when she turned to me, wearing nothing but her shorts and a black lacy bra. I swallowed hard and turned around, forcing myself to walk out of the room. Jesus, didn’t she know there was a fucking bathroom that she could have changed in?
I pulled my phone out and looked at the texts and missed calls on my phone that I had ignored yesterday. I looked at the latest text and heavily blew out a sigh.
Cole, your mother was just admitted into the hospital.
I called my dad, pissed off before the conversation even started. “Hello?” he answered, sounding extremely tired.
“What the fuck did she do?” I asked him, cutting straight to the chase.
“She took off last night with the Bloody Royals without letting me know. Apparently, she blew up one of the ATL’s warehouses, and she received some almost fatal burn wounds because she couldn’t get away fast enough.” He paused, sighing. “Cole, she needs you here.”
My temper was already flared up because she blew up a warehouse of the fucking ATL. So, I fucking exploded when he told me he wanted me to come home. Did he not realize the fucking shit he just buried Amelia further into? For fuck’s sake, I left so they could hopefully realize they had shit they needed to figure out! Instead, they just further try to help the ATL make a fucking death warrant for Amelia?
I heard the motel room door open, but at that moment, I didn’t give a damn. I was pissed. “Are you insane?!” I roared. “You really think it’s a good fucking idea for me to come riding back home with Amelia after you just let Mom blow up the warehouse of the man who killed my fucking sister and brutally fucked up Amelia?! Are you trying to get Amelia fucking killed?! There’s no way in hell I’m fucking coming home! All of you assholes can burn in hell!”
I hung up the phone. Amelia grabbed my wrist and turned me to face her. Her eyes were large and filled with fear, her face white. My heart twisted upon seeing her look so afraid. “Cole, what happened?”
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Mom fucking blew up a warehouse that belongs to the ATL. So, we’ve got to move soon and get farther away. I’m going to trash this phone and get a new one. We can get something to eat, and then, we’ll ride out.” I looked down at her, my eyes and face intent, showing I wasn’t playing games with this. This shit was serious, and I would be damned if she got hurt again. “I won’t have you hurt, Amelia. Not on my fucking watch and not anymore if I can help it. I will do what I have to do to protect you.”
She sighed. “Cole, you’re giving up your entire life, everything that you know—for me. I can’t ask that of you.”
I kissed her lightly, rubbing my thumb over her cheekbone. “Amelia, you don’t have to ask me. I’m doing it because I care about you. I won’t let anything else happen to you while I’m alive. Those fucking bastards have fucked with the two things in my life that mean the most to me: you and my family. I’ll be damned if I let either one get hurt or killed because of me again.” She started to speak, but I put a finger to her lips. “Shh. There’s nothing you could say that would change my mind. Come on. Get your bags together and get them loaded on your bike. We’re going to get something to eat, and then, we’re riding out.”
